


routine

by orphan_account



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Coffee Shops, Guess Who's OOC, whatever get out of my face an anon requested it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 19:42:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3990379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wesley, it seems, is not <i>always</i> such a smooth talker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	routine

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i'm half asleep and on meds so

It's six AM when you open the shop. Wesley, ever adhering to his schedule, is the only person who has ever waited outside the small shop for you to unlock the door.

"I'd let you in earlier,” you smiled one morning, perhaps a week after the routine began. "But I'm afraid my boss might have an aneurism if she found out I let someone in at 5:59." You laughed lightly and Wesley responded with a small smile. Despite the restrictions placed on you, you seemed to always have his order ready as soon as he stepped inside. Two large coffees, one black, one with cream. You had never bothered to ask who the second cup was for. (Not for lack of interest, of course. You would remind yourself every morning that you knew nothing about the man. He deserved his privacy as much as you). Wesley would pay cash, letting the change drop into your hand and maybe, if he was feeling _particularly brazen_ , letting their fingers brush as he pulled his hand away. 

Such was your routine. 

Understandably, then, it came as something of a shock to you when you looked up from the counter at the end of your shift Saturday afternoon to see the smartly dressed man you had dubbed "Six AM" and vowed never to talk about standing somewhat awkwardly in the short line of customers, staring intently at his watch.

Your heart began beating a little more frantically than usual, wondering what he was doing here. If you ought to comment on his change in schedule, or if he would even recognize you. That would be the most likely scenario - he wouldn't even register who you were. People who dressed like he did, well, they didn't pay attention to people whose relation to them began and ended with handing them a cup of coffee.

You needn't have worried about it, however. Just as you was about to call up the next customer, a hand fell to your shoulder.

"I've got next shift." 

You thanked your co-worker distractedly, your eyes still fixated on the man in line. He still hadn’t looked up, giving you time to admire his styled hair. Your co-worker cleared his throat and you looked up. Right. Leaving. You pulled your apron over your head, ducking into the back room to grab your bag and coat. In line, Wesley looked up just in time to see you disappear around the corner. Sighing, he stepped out of the line, gesturing for the next customer to go ahead. _That's what you get for going out of your way._

It didn't take you two minutes to punch out and rush outside. You stood a moment on the sidewalk to relax a moment before the walk home, not at all expecting to be approached.

"Um. Excuse me?"

You spun on the spot, mouth dropping open when you saw none other than the man who had been occupying your thoughts.

"Hey you." The O-shape of your mouth quickly turned into a smile. Wesley couldn't help but smile back, though he quickly became self-conscious and dropped it. His line of work didn’t call for many smiles.

"James." He said, putting out a hand, allowing you to catch a glimpse of the shiny, expensive watch on his wrist before you took his hand.

"I'm [Y/N]." Then again, you thought, looking down at the nametag still pinned to your shirt, he probably had that figured out for himself.

You stood in silence a moment, neither quite sure why they were there.

"You didn't... buy anything." You suddenly observed, noting his empty hands. Why would he have come in, if not...

Oh. _OH._

He cleared his throat. "No, well, the fact is that..." He was painfully aware of how far down his nose his glasses were slipping, but no matter what he told himself, Wesley wasn't able to meet your eyes. Usually so suave and put together, it had been a such a struggle to bring himself to approach you, he hadn’t even considered how to broach the delicate topic he had in mind. 

The silence was reaching that painful point, and while his flustered expression was a new and rather adorable one, you didn’t really want to be rude, so you took a leap of faith.

"Do you wanna get coffee sometime?" You couldn’t help but smile at how his head snapped up when you said it. He adjusted his glasses, a look of slight confusion on his face. 

For a moment, you worried you had misread the situation.

"Coffee?"

You wrinkled your brow. "Or... something else. Drinks. Dinner." You could only hope you hadn't said something wrong. This was, after all, the longest conversation you’d had with him yet. Relief washed over you when he nodded.

"Ah, yes. I... I know a place in Hell's Kitchen." 

"You can pick me up after my shift tomorrow." You were practically beaming, much more confident now. Wesley didn't mind - your taking the lead was just fine. Evidently asking people out was not among his strengths. Not like this, anyways. He hardly knew you, but you had somehow, inadvertently, dragged him out of his comfort zone. No, Wesley didn't really know you, but he had a feeling he wanted to.


End file.
